Chapter Four

Rage and frustration filled Tristan as he paced the glass encased ten by ten-foot cubicle that was positioned in the center of a large laboratory.  He’d managed to escape the meta-naturals only to be taken to an underground facility operated by a human scientist who was clearly mad.

He’d done his best to communicate his mission, but the language spoken was something that Tristan was unprepared for.  He was fluent in English, French, and Spanish, since those were the countries whose leaders he was expected to parlay with.  The language the mad doctor and his assistants spoke was of an Eastern European nature.  By the time he’d listened and learned enough to communicate, he discovered that the mad man’s only interest was studying him as a species. A species?  He was an inner-earth humanoid, not a species.  At least, not in his mind. 

Technically he was a species, but not in the way the lunatic scientist meant it.  He was an intelligent humanoid who was capable of speaking many languages and was bright enough to quickly learn those he wasn’t familiar with- as he’d so amply proven.  In many ways, he was superior to the surface human, yet, he was being treated and caged like an animal to be studied and then, possibly, either dissected or placed on display; both of which needed to be avoided.

He knew they’d made a mistake sending him instead of one of their scientists who’d made the case for communicating with the surface people in the first place.   A fellow scientist would have better known the right things to say to his captor to get him to listen to reason.  If he managed to survive and get back home, he fully intended to give King Edgar a big fat ‘I told you so’.

He sat on the one chair the cubicle possessed, rested his elbows on his knees, clasped his fingers together and hung his head in thought.  There had to be a way out of there. 

He’d seen the scientist only a few times since he was captured almost a week earlier. Instead, the boss sent his scrawny, pimply faced assistant to sit on the opposite side of the glass and observe him.   He’d asked the young man on several occasions if he’d relayed that he could now communicate in their language and wished to speak to the scientist and was told, “Yes, but the doctor is not interested in a meeting at this time.”

“I would think the fact that I learned to speak your language in a matter of days, simply by listening, would be of fascination for a man of study,” Tristan complained.  “Just what is it about me that he wants to study, if not my intelligence?”

“His plans are not my business,” the assistant snapped as he focused on entering information into the tablet he held.  “I just do as I am told.”

“What are you told?” Tristan asked in a demanding tone.

“I’m to record your body functions,” he admitted.

“My what?” Tristan bellowed. “Why?”

“I already told you, it’s not my business.  I just do as I’m told,” the assistant said as he pulled a small walkie talkie that was beeping from his pocket and held it to his mouth. “Adam here.”

“We need you above,” said a female voice through the device.

“On my way,” the assistant said as he slipped the small communicator back into his pocket, cradled his tablet, and headed out the door without a backward glance.

Tristan rushed to the thick, glass wall and pressed his forehead against the smooth surface while he repeatedly slammed the flat of his hand against it.  It created a rhythmic sound that resembled drumming and had a surprising calming effect on him.

Heaving a sigh of resignation, he walked to the small bed on the opposite side of the cubicle and fell onto it.  This wasn’t the first time he was grateful for the ability to control the functions of his body. Within seconds, he managed to escape his reality in blissful slumber.

She stood before him, naked and beautiful.  Her long copper hair cascaded over her shoulders, leaving the loveliness of her breasts to his imagination while her petite hands struggled to cover the sight of her exposed female core as best as they could. Fear and despair reflected in her green eyes.  Was it his fear and despair or hers?  He just didn’t know.

The man he’d labeled the ‘mad scientist’ finally entered the room. Tristan allowed his emotions to take control and charged at him.  It was then that he realized that, not only was he as naked as the girl next to him, but he was shackled at the ankles; making it impossible to reach the scientist, who stood just a few inches out from his grasp with a smug look on his face.

The scientist motioned for two large assistants to push the girl onto her back on a large bed, after which, Tristan was forced to join her.  Once he’d informed Tristan that he expected them to breed, the scientist and his assistants left the cubicle and made themselves comfortable on the opposite side of the glass walls.

Tristan could feel the bed shaking beneath the girl’s trembling body. He was outraged. 

“I am not an animal and I will not be studied and treated as such,” he bellowed.

Tears rolled down the girl’s pale cheeks and she covered her face with her hands. “Just do it.”

“What?  Why?” he asked with surprise.

“He’s crazy.  If you don’t mate with me, he’ll pair us up with animals,” she said softly.

“That is ridiculous,” Tristan scoffed.

“He’s already done it.  I’ve witnessed the results of it,” she insisted.

“What type of results.  Intermingling of species is rarely successful,” he said, more to himself than to her.

“He’s got a few babies that look half wolf and half human; half- horse and half-human, and… oh, I just don’t know.  There’s more. It’s horrible,” she moaned.

“You have seen this?” he asked with surprise.

She nodded.

Tristan was aware of this type of species blending being done centuries ago by the Atlantean scientists.  It took an extremely long time to correct, and, then, never completely. Many of the misfits created were forced to live in subterranean levels with the meta-naturals.  Some of which were now enslaved by those meta-naturals who were wicked enough to misuse their powers.  This experimentation was also the basis for many of the mythical creatures in the stories the humans told.

His heart raced wildly as the realization of what was happening struck him.

Perspiration coated his torso as he sat up with a start and rubbed his eyes to bring his surroundings into focus.  A sigh of relief helped his heartbeat return to normal as he realized he’d simply had a bad dream.  He’d had glimpses of his fantasy girl in more than one dream, but never had she been naked and asking him to bed her.  He shook his head at the ridiculous story his mind concocted to justify his lust for his fantasy girl.

The sight of the door of the laboratory opening caught his attention.  The mad scientist entered, followed by three very large and strong looking men.   All wore white lab coats and slacks that blended in with the white walls and floors.  Had it not been for the pigment in their flesh and the color of their eyes and hair, they’d have been difficult to make out amidst the white void he’d begun to grow accustomed to.

“You were dreaming,” the mad scientist said without looking at Tristan as his finger moved rapidly over the surface of the tablet he cradled. “It clearly disturbed you.  Tell us about it.”

“If we talk, it will be about my mission, not my dream,” Tristan said firmly in the language he now knew to be Russian.

“You have learned our language well,” the scientist said in clear and distinct English.  His mouth twisted with a satisfied grin upon seeing Tristan’s surprise and irritation in discovering his captor understood every word he’d spoken since his capture.  “Perfect diction.  Hardly any accent. Remarkable.”

“Where am I?” Tristan asked in Russian. He decided not to take the bait and bring up the fact that the mad man knew English all along.  “Why are you studying me?”

“You are in my laboratory and I am studying you to better understand creation,” the mad scientist replied without lifting his eyes from his tablet as his fingers typed something.

A round of chuckling from the occupants in the room was the response he got when Tristan said, “I need to get to your capital and speak with the men in charge.”

“You are a long way from my capital,” the mad scientist informed him with an amused tone.  “In fact, you are not even in the correct country for my capital.”

“It was my intention to speak first to those who govern North America.  Am I not in North America?” When the mad scientist confirmed that he was indeed in North America, he continued.  “There are things we are able to know that you have yet to understand,” Tristan said with urgency.  “If I can just speak with your leaders, I will inform them of what’s to come and what must be done to prevent it.”

 “Just how is it that you are able to know the future?” his captor asked with genuine curiosity as he continued to move his hand over his tablet. “Tell me about your species.”

“We are humanoid, like you,” Tristan said, defensively.

The mad scientist finally looked up from his tablet and studied Tristan with an air of arrogance. “Are you truly like us?   I detected a few differences in your lab work that I’d like to expound upon.”

Tristan took a deep breath to help subdue his irritation.  His skills and patience with negotiation were limited.  He understood that losing his temper would accomplish nothing, but it was getting harder and harder to remain calm. “I did not come here to be a subject of study.  I am here on a diplomatic mission.  I must speak with the leaders of North America.”

His captor’s brows raised.  His brown eyes appeared even larger behind the magnification of his thick glasses as he looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. “If you wished to avoid being a subject of study, then, you would have been wise to have studied us a bit more thoroughly prior to coming from…. Where did you come from?”

“Inner-earth,” Tristan said, dryly.

“Fascinating,” the mad scientist said with a faraway look in his eyes. “Admiral Byrd spoke truth.” 

Tristan had never met this Admiral Byrd, but he’d heard enough stories about him to know that such a man had existed and had visited inner earth on more than one occasion.  He was about to bring this fact up when his captor turned on his heels and began barking orders to his people.

“Extract some semen from him. I want to see if the variances I’m finding make a difference in combining DNA,” was the last he heard from the scientist as the man disappeared through the door without so much as a backward glance.

Visions of his dream sprung forth at the mad man’s words.  Could it have been pre-cognitive?  Was there really a naked girl waiting for him to couple within some breeding room?  The girl he’d seen visions of for years?  Was this his destiny playing out?

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn’t notice the men throw the door open and aim a tranquilizing gun at him until it was too late.